


It’s Two In The Morning

by KitschCriteria



Category: Detective Grimoire (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21525079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitschCriteria/pseuds/KitschCriteria
Summary: It was the middle of winter. There was three feet of snow.His cat was pure white.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	It’s Two In The Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for “you knock on my door at 2 in the morning because your very white cat got out and you need help trying to find them in the three feet of snow we have”. Also, thanks to devilsviolets for the cat’s name!

It was only slightly past two in the morning when someone knocked at her door.

Now, Sally knew this because she had been dutifully watching the clock at the time while cursing her various vices. She’d drank at least three cups of coffee to get through the tail end of an overdue essay, then finished off a fourth because she’d made too much coffee to begin with and refused to waste anything.

So, yeah, she was wide awake when she heard the knocking. At that point, she was bored out of her over caffeinated mind, so she really had nothing better to do than see who on earth was out there, especially considering this was the middle of winter and cold as all hell even at the best of times.

She heaved herself out of bed and shuffled her way to the door, opening it to reveal... some dude. Just some dude. Sally was almost kind of disappointed.

He looked pretty bedraggled, which was fair, considering the hour. He was in his pajamas, with a bedhead that was impressive solely in the fact that it rivaled her own, somehow. He blinked and squinted at the light that shone on his face as the door opened on him, before focusing his eyes on Sally and drawing himself up as if to make a sales pitch.

“Uh, hello! I’m... sorry to bother you, at this hour, but I was wondering,” he slumped slightly, “uh, could you help me find my cat?” She blinked. 

“Your... cat?” He nodded, looking more uncomfortable by the second.

“I didn’t mean too! I just... took my eyes off him for a second, and- he was over the fence! Your fence, so... I was hoping you could help me. Please.”

“How did you lose your cat at _two in the_ -“ She paused, took a breath, “Y’know what? Sure, let’s look for your cat. What does he look like?” The man looked even more sheepish, if that was possible.

“He’s... pure white. Green eyes. Very furry?” She sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

It was the middle of winter. There was three feet of snow. _His cat was pure white._

“Alright, let’s... look for your cat. Your white cat. In the snow. At two in the morning. I’m getting more coffee.” She pulled the door open and gestured for him to come in, before shutting it and heading for the kitchen. He followed.

As she pulled down the coffee grounds and started measuring everything out, the man sat himself down at the table, quietly taking in the surroundings. She finished preparing the coffee, and leaned back against the counter while she waited for the pot to fill. From her place across the kitchen, she took a moment to look the man over again.

He didn’t look very put together. His bedhead was even worse in the light, and she wondered if it had ever seen a brush, much less any actual hair care. Still, it was a particularly striking red, and managed to somewhat impressively stand up on its own. He looked tired- she could see the eyebags from here, though she suspected she wasn’t much better. In terms of the rest of him, the pajamas were a deep green and very fuzzy, and he wore a frankly terrible pair of some kind of- were those _Boggy themed slippers?_

“Are those Boggy themed slippers?” He started, and turned to Sally with a surprised expression.

“Y-yeah! Do you... know much about Boggy?” She snorted.

“I used to work there. Boggy’s Bog, I mean. I sold all the touristy junk- like those. I’ve definitely sold a few pairs of those.” He looked somewhat disappointed.

“Oh, well... I used to watch the show. Big fan! Haven’t met, uh, anyone who’s see it, though.” The coffee machine beeped, and she grabbed two mugs and turned to the machine.

“Was it actually any good, is the question. I can’t imagine it being anything special. I can’t even imagine what the budget must’ve looked like,” she handed him a mug, “cause there was barely budget for the tourist trap.” He took a quick gulp of coffee.

“W-well, it really didn’t have that much in terms of budget... or animation quality, or general quality...” he trailed off, taking another sip, “but it’s nostalgia, you know?” She shrugged.

“That’s fair. I never watched it- not even after I started working there. Never really saw the point.”

They descended into a comfortable-ish silence at that point, Sally taking slow sips of coffee while the man downed his and nervously bounced his leg. About halfway through her drink, she took pity on him and put her mug down, before gesturing at him again and heading for the back door. He quickly got up and followed her to the door, peering out the window into the darkness outside as she fiddled with the lock. Once the door was open, she flicked the switch for the backyard light and bent down to grab for her boots.

By the time she’d finished tugging them on, he’d already headed outside without her- she took a minute to consider if his slippers could be anywhere near adequate for the snow, before sighing and grabbing a spare pair of boots.

She stood on the back porch and surveyed the backyard. The dark of the night contrasting with the bright of the porch light created a stark image- nothing but shining snow that darkened at the rounded edges of the light, and the barest hint of fence illuminated further off. Light or no, it was going to be hard to see much, especially at the points that the light didn’t reach. Maybe she should’ve brought a flashlight.

She could see the man, up to his waist in snow, near the edge where the light tapered off, staring off into the dark. She could hear him calling for the cat, presumably- who names their cat Charizard?

She walked to the end of the porch before leaning over the rail and holding out the extra pair of boots.

“Hey, cat dude!” He turned to face her, and she continued, “ _Please_ wear some proper footwear- I’m going to get frostbite just from watching you.”

He blinked at her, then looked down at his feet, as if he’d only just noticed what he was wearing. Quickly, he shuffled his way through the snow towards her, wincing at the newly-realized cold, before snatching the boots from her and hurriedly pulling the boots over his feet. He dropped his slippers over the rail, where they sunk in lightly atop the snow. He breathed out a sigh of relief at the newfound warmth.

They both paused for a moment, looking at each other- the man’s cheeks were bright pink, he must have been freezing. Then they heard a sound in the distance, a shuffling of snow, and the man jumped back, stuttered out a quick thanks, and waded back the way he came.

Sally, too, started making her way out into the snow. She headed in a different direction- the man had headed directly for a specific side of the yard, presumably the side his house was on, where his cat would’ve come from. 

She wanted to spread out, for efficiency, so she headed for the opposite end and started gazing around the darker portions for any disturbed snow. Seeing nothing at the far end, she began to move along the edge of the circle of light, keeping a constant eye as she moved.

And there, again- a shuffling crunch of snow, somewhere past the light. She took a few cautious steps into the darkness, patting at the snow in front of her, searching for dents. As she moved forward, the sound happened again, and again, as if something heard her approaching and was- moving away, probably.

Still, it was a cat in three feet of snow. It wasn’t going to make any progress she couldn’t overtake pretty easily, so she kept her slow pace and followed the noise. Soon, she found indented snow, and quickly followed the rut to its end- and the man’s cat.

He hissed slightly and tried to scratch at her as she hoisted him out of the snow, but calmed down some as she adjusted her hold. She turned back towards the light and began to head back to the porch.

The man glanced at her from his end of the yard as she trudged back, and his face lit up. Within the second, he had somehow popped up by her side and took the cat into his arms, alternating between scolding and cooing at the cat as he walked beside her to the porch. It was cute- for a stranger at two am, obviously.

They headed back inside, and the man headed further into the house as Sally peeled off her boots, turned off the porch light and locked the door. It was easy enough to find where he’d wandered to- he hadn’t taken off his boots and had left a trail of snow, already warming to a wet slush, in his wake. She followed the path to the living room, where the man had kicked off the boots and curled on the couch, Charizard purring in his lap. 

Sally’s heart skipped a beat or so as she approached and slumped down into the armchair nearby, before she made sure to level the man with a glare. He looked up, and seemed taken aback at the glare until he leaned over and glanced at his snow-cover boots, melting snow seeping into the carpet. Then his expression turned somewhat sheepish.

She waved off whatever apology he was going to start, and instead grabbed the remote from the coffee table. She turned on the tv, navigated to Netflix, and opened the search bar. The man watched curiously as she typed in _B-O-G-G-_

“Wait, are you,” he started, sitting up slightly, “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” She agreed, solemnly, as she clicked the icon for _Boggy’s Bog_ and started the first episode.

Honestly, it really wasn’t that good. The animation was jerky and not at all smooth, even accounting for the fact that the show was _super_ old. The plot wasn’t much better- something about Boggy playing the piano? Probably? She only half paid attention, regularly glancing between the tv and the man as he watched.

He was.. cute- again, for a stranger at two am- and he was endearingly invested in the actual plot of the episode. He kept lifting himself off the couch to point at the screen, Charizard making annoyed noises as he shifted, explaining Boggy’s backstory- which they’ll learn in episode six, apparently- and intermittently expositing on the production. Why it was made, the amount of creative control the Remingtons actually retained, the team of five in charge of every element of production because they couldn’t afford to hire more- it was a lot. Sally couldn’t believe she thought this was cute.

The first episode ended with a cheery, and yet simultaneously obnoxious, final song by Boggy, and they both watched the credits roll. The man glanced over at Sally, then the clock, then at her again with another embarrassed look. She looked at the clock too, and realized why- it was three thirty, now. Geez. She stood up, turned off the tv, and stretched.

“While this has been... fun, I do need to at least pretend to sleep before work tomorrow, so you should _probably_ go.” He nodded, and got up, his cat still nestled in his arms.

“Right, yeah. Uh- thank you! For your help. With, er,” he lifted the cat to eye level, “finding Charizard.” She snorted.

“I can believe you named him Charizard, seriously.” He pulled Charizard closer to his chest and shot Sally a glare.

“It’s a cool Pokémon! I like the name! Let a man live his dreams of owning a cat and naming it Charizard!”

They bickered over the name as they approached the front door- the man a staunch defender of Charizard and Sally throwing in her vote for just cutting out the middleman and calling him Menace. When the reached the door, there was a moment of awkward silence as they both considered the proper conclusion to what was admittedly a very odd overall interaction. The man spoke first.

“Uh, thank you, again, for your help! Uh...” he blinked, as if realizing something, “wait, what your your name again?”

“Huh,” she said, “I don’t think we actually told each other our names. I’m Sally.”

“And I’m Grimoire! _Detective_ Grimoire.”

“Wait, your name is _Grim_ -“ And he was already halfway down the sidewalk. 

He waved as she stared after him, exasperated.

She shut the door, and took a deep breath. She could tell the coffee had started to wear off- she was suddenly _so tired_. Well, she’d clean up quick then head to bed. At least she didn’t have to get up til later in the afternoon.

She half-heartedly dragged the mop along the trail of water from the boots to the back door. It wasn’t the most thorough, but whatever. She slumped against the back door, and yawned. Glancing out the window at the paths they’d cut through the snow, Sally felt almost- fond, somehow. Grimoire was definitely weird, but he was kinda nice. Maybe she’d say hi if she saw him again. Well, it was likely, she had just learned they were next door neighbors, after all.

Her eyes traced the rut of Grimoire’s winding path right up to- oh. Oops. 

There were his slippers, sat atop the crust of snow where he’d dropped them earlier. Amazingly, that made it the second time this night he’d apparently been oblivious to the freezing temperatures. Seriously, how’d he make it home without noticing the his footwear was missing?

She sighed. She’d take them over to his house whenever she woke up tomorrow, see if she could drop them off.

She went outside to quickly grab the slippers, and left them by the door.

She smiled as she headed to her room. Look like they’d be seeing each again soon.

**Author's Note:**

> also i have a tumblr: https://kitschcriteria.tumblr.com/


End file.
